In Another Life
by La Bitca
Summary: A bunch of AU one-shots where Jo and Zane meet.
1. Gymtastic

_I don't even know what this is… _

_SPARTA. Or the product of my imagination. But probably Sparta. _

_I don't own Eureka._

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><p>Zane grunted as he released the pulleys of his weight machine and they clanged loudly as they shot back up into place, echoing in the empty gym. He sat up and grabbed a towel he'd thrown over a nearby weight rack to wipe his slightly moist brow. He breathed deeply to regulate his heart rate and picked up his water bottle, squirting some in his mouth as he scanned over the abandoned fitness center. It was actually kind of eerie; maybe he should go home… why was no one here? Lazy asses. Sure it was 10:30 at night, but still. Just as he started towards his bag, the door swung open, and in she walked.<p>

Zane fought hard to suppress his smile. He'd been watching this babe of a woman come in every day for a month now. And she wasn't just an ordinary woman who ran feebly on the treadmill with arms flailing in the attempts to fit into size smaller jeans, no way. She went straight to the punching bags every time. And she attacked them. Whether she had a bunch of pent up rage or just enjoyed a different form of exercise, she was amazing: jabbing and pummeling and kicking with honed skill. He looked on as she unzipped her jacket and began to stretch with her back to him. When she began her workout, his smile managed to sneak onto his face – he couldn't help it! Zane could tell from her method that she was one hell of a woman. After a few minutes she spoke up without turning around.

"You gonna do something or just stare at my ass all day?"

"All night" he corrected and heard her snort in response as he walked over. "Besides, I was just admiring your form."

"Yeah, I bet you were."

"I certainly was Ms…"

She momentarily stopped and looked over at him, sizing him up. She seemed to find something trustworthy in what she saw, and finally responded. "Lupo. Jo Lupo."

Zane bowed extravagantly. "Zane Donovan, at your service."

The corner of her lips twitched upwards as she turned back to her now somewhat battered punching bag. He took that as an invitation (or at least not a rejection), stepping behind the poor old beat-up thing and braced it against the storm that is Jo Lupo. She doled out a particularly hard punch and Zane felt the impact travel up his arms. Hoo. She may be small, but _damn _she was powerful. Jo threw in some combos and Zane whistled. She paused again.

"That impresses you?"

"Maybe if I saw it put into real action it would" he taunted.

"You asking to grapple with me?"

"Why, Jojo, I thought you'd never ask" he said with a wink as he stepped out onto the mat.

She smiled at Zane's nickname for her and followed him out. She rotated her shoulder blades as he quickly stretched. Then they got into their stances. And oh, what a grapple it was.

Zane aimed a few punches at her abdomen and she blocked them with ease. That was fine; he was just testing the waters. She threw some at his head and he dodged out of the way.

"Hey! Watch the face!"

She grinned. "I just wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off it."

"That's my sexy smirk, Jojo. That's all for you."

She rolled her eyes as she threw her next jab – which he blocked of course. The next few minutes followed the same pattern, both aiming with precision, both getting repeatedly blocked. It looked like a stalemate until Jo's phone started ringing. Talking Heads – this girl was cooler than he'd originally given her credit for. She glanced over at the sound and Zane took advantage of the distraction to sweep his leg under her feet in an attempt to drop her. But she turned back quickly and responded with some sort of scary ninja-like ability, caught his leg, and flipped him over so his face was squished against the mat. That hurt.

"That all you got Zaney boy? Or are you just going easy on me because I'm a girl? Oh – did I mention you just got dropped by a _girl?_" she said teasingly. Zane hated losing. He twisted his ankle out of her grip and actually managed to pull off his move this time. She thudded onto her back on the mat, and Zane rolled over, pinning her arms down and keeping her still while simultaneously making sure not to crush her.

"That was all planned, babe. Lull you into a false sense of security and then pull out the big guns."

She struggled under him, but finally realized that their body weight ratios kind of guaranteed his winning that fight. She huffed and glared up at him, opening her mouth – no doubt to spit out some scathing comment – but she stopped. Her eyes flicked down to his lips. Zane suddenly realized how close their faces were, how he could feel her breath hot on his mouth, how her parted lips looked so tantalizingly pink and plump…

They were both shaken out of their intense focus on each other when Jo's phone started ringing again.

She let her head drop back onto the mat and groaned. "God, he just won't give up, will he?"

Something turned in Zane's stomach. He? A guy? She didn't have a boyfriend, did she?

"Who won't give up?"

"My psycho boss. He wants me to start working weekends – like I don't put in enough hours already."

Zane heaved an internal sigh of relief and sat up. He walked over to her bag, and the phone stopped ringing as soon as he reached it. That's right technology: be afraid, be very afraid. He picked up the handheld and typed something in, then placed it down again and bounded over to his bag. Jo had sat up at this point as was watching his motions with a quizzical expression on her face.

"What'd you do to my phone?"

Zane held out a finger. "Hold that thought, seems I have a text." He picked up his own phone and placed his hand over his heart in mock surprise.

"Why, Jo! I would _love _to meet you at The Caffeine Cave around ten tomorrow morning! We can talk about this lovely boss of yours" he said with a sparkling smile on his face.

She stood up and went to check her phone, finding the text he had sent to himself. She bit her lip and looked up at him. "Coffee shop, huh? Guess I'm a bit of a traditionalist."

"Well, I think you made the perfect choice since wrestling isn't exactly the best choice for a first date" he said, gesturing towards the mat.

She zipped up her bag as he talked and walked up right into his personal space, whispering in his ear: "Oh, but I do so love to wrestle Mr. Donovan." And with that she walked towards the door, hips sashaying sexily. All Zane could do was watch her retreating figure since his brain had decided to shut down. She turned back once she reached the door.

"See you at ten." And with a wink and a dazzling smile, she left.

Zane swallowed hard. He was suddenly wholly appreciative of the adjacent locker room showers.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm working on my other story! I just… lack inspiration. So we'll probably have Christmas some time in February. 'Tis the season! Or not, in this case._


	2. Vroom Vavavoom

Jo groaned as her engine made unhappy noises for the nth time that day. She patted the dashboard lovingly and murmured "C'mon Tabitha, hang in there. Just a little further." She pressed the gas gingerly and whispered prayers as her poor car inched along. At least there was no one behind her at the moment – she'd gotten honked at enough in the past week. Poor Tabby had been having trouble starting up; Jo would turn the key and she could hear a slow sputtering, then a loud whirring before she was able to put the car in motion. And then there were the occasional kalunking noises that seemed to start up whenever Jo reached 60mph. Not the most reassuring sound when you're on the freeway, to be sure. So she'd finally caved and decided to bring the ol' trooper to the mechanic.

She finally caught sight of the Mr. Fix It's auto shop and exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Loosening her grip on the wheel, she purred "It's okay baby, we're here. We're here." (And in one piece, but she didn't voice that aloud). Tabitha seemed to recognize their arrival and the engine made an unfortunate clanking sound as they pulled in. Turning off the ignition and pulling out her keys, Jo stepped out and shut her door. She heard some noise coming from the back room behind the sign-in counter and rang the bell sitting next to the cash register. Suddenly there was a loud clang as something metallic clattered to the ground, accompanied with a muffled "Oof". After a few more scraping noises and some grunting, the door swung open.

Out walked a man who could only be described as a hunk. He had a smear of oil on his right cheekbone, short jet black hair and stubble to match, which made his strikingly blue eyes stand out even more. He was wiping his greasy hands on an already dirtied towel as he walked up to the counter.

"Can I help you?"

Hell yes he could.

"I hope so. My car barely got me here, and I'm not sure what's wrong. I think it's the engine. It keeps making weird noises when I start it up."

"Anything for a damsel in distress" he said, flashing her a grin.

Oh, but he was attractive.

Jo sighed exasperatedly. "I wouldn't be a damsel if my damn steed was functioning."

"It's okay, she didn't mean that" the man cooed, patting Tabby's hood before lifting it open.

She saw a name embroidered in dark blue thread on the right side of the chest of his light blue jumpsuit. After squinting at it somewhat discretely for a minute, she finally figured it out: Zane. And God bless his parents for bringing this gorgeous man into the world. Blinking, Jo looked away and chastised herself mentally. _Don't stare. Don't be a stalker. _She kept her gaze elsewhere as Zane jacked the car up and examined the contents of her engine compartment further, but then he made a small "Hmm" and Jo happily let her eyes slide back to his figure.

"How long has it been since you came in for a tune-up?"

Jo couldn't remember. She really ought to take better care of Tabby. She bit her lip as he looked up at her, and noticed his eyes were momentarily drawn to her mouth before meeting her apologetic gaze. He smiled again and beckoned her over.

"C'mon, I'll show you how to do this – if you're willing to get your hands dirty, that is." The last part he said with a mischievous grin gleam in his eyes, and Jo grinned back. She walked over while rolling up her jacket sleeves. He chose the wrong girl to challenge.

"So this" he said indicating to a large container with the lid unscrewed, "is your oil tank. Smell that?"

She crinkled her nose and nodded. "Yeah, you're not supposed to. So to change it, you get underneath the car and unscrew the bottom cap of the tank" he said, handing her a socket wrench and rolling the creeper towards her with his foot*. Lying down on her back (she was glad she hadn't worn anything fancy), Jo slid under the car and took the drip pan Zane gave her. Once she unscrewed the cap, a chunky, foul-smelling substance poured out of the tank and ran over her hands. It was disgusting and unexpected and made Jo yelp, narrowly avoiding smacking her head against the bottom of the car.

Zane pulled her out quickly and looked her over worriedly. "Are you okay?"

She nodded and held up her hands. "You weren't kidding about the dirty part."

He just laughed as he led her over to a nearby sink and she scrubbed the so-called oil off. She was pretty sure oil was supposed to be smooth, not grainy with weird lumps. If it had really been so long since she changed it that it had turned into an entirely different consistency, Jo was probably lucky her car hadn't exploded or something. Drying her hands off on her jeans, she walked back over to Zane who was examining the contents of the drainage pan. When Jo saw what was inside, she suppressed her gag reflex.

"I'm guessing it's not supposed to be like this." Gee, Jo, very intelligent observation. Way to make an impression.

"No. Definitely not." He shook his head and looked back up at her. "Ready to finish?" Jo nodded and he showed her how to funnel in the new oil and put all the caps back on.

"Voila!" he said as she finished tightening the top cap.

"Did I pass?"

"With flying colors." Oh, that smile. This man would be the end of her.

She beamed at him happily and walked over to the counter.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Twenty seven dollars." She looked up at him questioningly, but he held his hands up in defense.

"Hey, you did all the work. I just supervised."

She smiled and handed him the money. "Thanks. I really should learn to take better care of her. I just always forget to go to the annual tune-ups, you know?"

He peeked at her ID before she closed her wallet and looked up. "Well, Josephina Lupo, I'd be happy to give you lessons. You seem to be a fast learner."

"Maybe you're just a good teacher. Maybe I'm actually completely incompetent."

"Oh, I doubt that" he said with a heart-melting smile. "Free of charge. How about it?"

"I _guess _I could tolerate you some more" she drawled playfully as she walked back to her car. She sat down and revved up the engine, smiling as it did so normally. Zane leaned in her rolled-down window and handed her his business card.

Jo glanced at it then back at him. "When are you free?"

"For you? Anytime."

* * *

><p>*Who knew those little mechanic skate board things were called creepers? Oh, the things I learn in order to write fanfic.<p> 


	3. Milford is Where the Heart Is

Zane cut through the air swiftly on his motorcycle and enjoyed the rush of adrenaline it stirred up within him. He relished in the empty road; it was all his and no one was there to tell him how to use it. Keeping to the center of the road, he refused to slow down when taking his turns. It was not the time to ride slowly. He needed to release his frustration, and riding was the best therapy he knew. Every gust of the crisp morning air that hit him felt like a cleansing wave, crashing against him until every trace of anger had dissipated. It was either this or bubble wrap. And he was fed up with bubble wrap – hell, he was fed up with it all.

He was tired of being kicked from pathetic job to pathetic job. Nothing could challenge him, nobody appreciated his talents, nowhere was suitable for him to stay. That's what his life was. A bunch of "no's" strung together on a long, tortuous chain. No, we aren't hiring right now. No, you can't get a raise. No, your rent can't wait a few more days. No, you can't order lunch at 10:59am because it's still technically breakfast. No, we can't make an exception, you'll just have to wait a minute.

Then Zane had had it. He was _done_. Done with the stupid city life, done with the stress, done with that heavy, unforgiving chain of no's. It seemed like a trivial thing to send him over the edge: waiting a minute for a sandwich. But a minute is a damn long time to wait when a man's hungry, and Zane had spent enough time in his thirty one years sitting patiently for his food to arrive, and for his life to improve. Or just to change, even. All of these no's had prevented him from ever feeling wanted, ever feeling like he belonged. What he wanted was a place he could call home. He wanted a life.

So here he was, speeding along a thin, winding road at 8:30 in the morning to an unknown destination. He had two jam-packed carrying bags and his bike, and that was all he needed. Okay, so maybe some sustenance would be nice. His stomach growled and Zane cursed himself for packing while he was upset, since he'd forgotten to bring any snacks in his angst-filled haze. And then, almost as if the universe had finally decided that it was on his side, he saw a blue sign with big white lettering:

_Welcome to Milford_

After a few more minutes of pursuing the route to this Milford place, the densely packed redwoods that had lined the road transitioned into small buildings. Everything seemed warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold, unwelcoming city he'd been dragging himself around for his whole life. He spotted a diner and pulled up to the sidewalk. Looking around, there weren't any people in sight, so he decided he didn't have to worry about his belongings being stolen. He made sure the buckles were fastened, removed his helmet, and walked up the steps to The Clean Spoon.

The bell on the door jingled in greeting as he stepped inside, and his nose was immediately assaulted with the mouth-watering aroma of coffee and freshly baked pies. The top half of the walls was decorated in paintings of pine trees like the ones surrounding the quaint little town, and beneath a white trim, the bottom half was a warm light green. The booths were reddish brown and looked extremely comfy, but Zane opted for the counter instead.

Responding to the sound of the door, a slightly older-looking woman walked out of the kitchen. Her hair was graying and her face had visible laugh lines that seemed to tell tales of a happy life, and Zane felt immediately relaxed.

"Why hello there! You must be new in town – welcome to Milford! I'm Marge."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Zane. This is a nice setup you got going on here" he said truthfully, swiveling his head to take in the layout again.

"Well thank you darlin'. Say, you look ravenous. Could I get you something to eat?"

Zane smiled appreciatively. "Yes please."

Ooh – this was his chance to test the waters of good ol' Milford. It was 8:45am.

"Could I get a meatball sandwich, by any chance?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart! And how about a chocolate shake?"

Success.

Zane's smile widened. "If you insist."

He nibbled on some peanuts from a bowl on the counter until Marge came back in with his meal, and after thanking her profusely, he dove in. Half a sandwich and one chocolate shake refill later, the door jingled. Zane turned to see the most beautiful creature that had ever walked the planet.

She had pink lips, long black wavy hair that fell perfectly over the shoulders of her brown leather jacket, and gorgeous eyes that he could stare into for hours. Clean cutlery, attractive women, food – what more could a man ask for?

"Good morning, Jo!" Marge chirped cheerily. "Coffee?"

"Please. Thanks Marge." Jo said with a smile. Holy shit, her smile. Her smile was like a new car on Christmas: shiny and spine-tingling. She walked up to the counter and sat down on the stool next to Zane.

"You must be new around here."

Of course, Zane had just taken a huge bite of his sandwich, so all he could manage was a nod and an "Mmph."

Her lips twitched up at his chipmunk-esque cheeks and handed him a napkin. He took it and wiped his mouth as he attempted to chew his food as quickly as possible. Damn his appetite. Suddenly she quirked her head to one side and looked at his plate.

"A sandwich? At nine am?"

He swallowed and turned a little more to face her. "Everyone's a critic" he sighed with false exasperation. "I'm Zane, by the way. And I'm beginning to wonder why you're so interested in my eating habits."

"Because it's my job to be interested in strange new men in town who eat meatball sandwiches at outlandish times of the day" she said, pulling back the left side of her jacket and revealing a sheriff's badge.

Zane smirked as Marge set Jo's coffee on the counter. "So you're interested in me?"

She rolled her eyes and thanked Marge. "Interested in the way where I want to be sure I don't have to use these." She pulled back the other side of her coat to reveal some handcuffs and a gun.

"That is so hot."

Did he say that out loud? This time Jo blushed a little as she sipped at her steamy beverage, and Zane turned back to his food, a little embarrassed himself. He took another considerably large bite of his sandwich, and was startled to hear Jo laugh. And okay, if her smile was a car, her laugh was a fucking yacht.

He turned to her confused and she had a hand over her mouth and a twinkle in her eyes. Still confused as to what was the source of her amusement, his brow furrowed.

"Oh my god, you have marinara sauce _all over _your face."

Zane shrugged his shoulders sheepishly and picked up the napkin to wipe around his mouth.

"There's still some right –"

"Did I get it?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No – it's right – it's – there."

She swiped a thumb across his cheek gently, cleaning the one spot he couldn't seem to get. The contact left his cheek warm and his stomach even warmer, and Jo blushed a little bit again. She looked down at her finger, debating what to do with the sauce. Finally, she brought her finger to her mouth and sucked it off, Zane's gaze following her every move intently. She nodded thoughtfully afterwards, and looked up.

"Marge, can I get one of those too, please?"

Zane grinned. "You going to keep me company, Sheriff?"

"I'm going to keep an eye on you."

"I'll be looking forward to that."

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><p><em>Reviews make the world go around! Or at least keep the fingers typing (:<em>


	4. Head Collisions of a Different Kind

Jo meandered down the vegetable aisle and stopped to pick up a red bell pepper. She remembered a stir fry recipe she'd seen a while back and thought about buying the ingredients for it, but then she was brought back to reality. The reality that she really, _really _couldn't cook. She grimaced as she remembered the macaroni and cheese fiasco from last week. How was she so inept at cooking? Her mom was a master chef – why couldn't she have inherited those genes? Smiling sadly, Jo placed the bright pepper down and walked on.

Ah, the pre-packaged sliced meat isle. Now that was her kind of aisle. Along with fruits and vegetables (she could slice and dice just fine, thank you very much), Jo basically lived off take out, sandwiches, and microwavable meals as evident by the contents of her shopping basket. The microwave she could handle. As long as you put a cover on the food and not metal objects in, there was no threat of fire or explosions! So much could not be said about ovens and stoves, at least from Jo's experiences.

She walked to the end of the row and turned the corner. Unfortunately, someone from the other side seemed to have had the same idea at the exact same time and she found out the hard way. Via head.

They both staggered backwards after impact, but thanks to having grown up with three brothers, Jo recovered quickly. The man she'd cracked skulls with was not so lucky and looked very much in pain as he clutched his forehead.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Jo rushed over and set her basket down. "Are you okay?"

He winced, removing his hand. "I'm fine. Fine. Probably just a concussion. And internal bleeding. And permanent brain cell loss."

Jo rolled her eyes at his wry humor, but noticed a healthy bump forming. Looking around, she realized the convenience of them being in the freezer aisle. She opened a nearby door and grabbed some frozen peas. He flinched slightly as she pressed the bag to his increasingly large swelling. She realized he was actually pretty attractive. Was this really the only way to meet guys?

He opened his eyes and seemed pleasantly surprised at her appearance, and an incredibly attractive smirk began to play upon his lips.

"So am I allowed to know the name of my attacker?"

She pressed the peas against his forehead harder and he whined.

"Attacker? What a drama queen."

"Well, by process of elimination, you have to be the attacker. I don't see a watermelon-sized lump growing on your forehead" he pouted.

She lessened the pressure and smiled. "It's not _that _bad."

He reached up and lowered her hand, then turned to look at his reflection in the glass door and groaned. "Jesus, I look like Frankenstein's monster!"

"I think that has something more to do with the haircut" Jo said playfully.

He mock glared at her until he noticed that he still had her hand in his grasp. Jo was suddenly feeling very warm, but that couldn't be right since they were in the freezer aisle. She definitely did not remember Frankenstein's monster making her feel this way. Finally, after what seemed like ages staring hungrily into his eyes, she gently broke free.

He cleared his throat and Jo picked her basket back up. She looked at the peas for a moment before holding them out hesitantly to the man.

"Do you like peas?"

He smiled as he took the bag from her. In doing so, his hand skimmed over hers again and she resisted the urge to gasp. Damn, but that was some spark.

"They _did _save my life." Jo rolled her eyes again and he smiled wider.

"Hey, there have been numerous cases of death by forehead swellings. It's true. Very resourceful of you, by the way. Using the peas as a makeshift ice pack."

"And I wasn't even a Girl Scout."

They smiled at each other and Jo realized that she was probably keeping him from something (or someone, but she didn't like that option), so she gave him an opening to leave.

"Sorry again about the crash."

He waved her off. "Naw, it's nothing."

A little disappointed, she started to walk away. But when she got about halfway down the aisle, she heard him call out to her.

He jogged over and fumbled for words.

"I know this was a clearly very, very big moment in your life, and since I am most likely going to be a permanent memory of yours, I don't want you to be telling your future kids about that guy you accidentally crashed into at the Shop and Stop one time and refer to him – me – as Frankenstein's monster. I'm Zane Donovan. No Frank's or Stein's anywhere to be found in my name."

He stared at her hopefully with those gorgeous eyes of his, and it actually seemed like their meeting could be a momentous occasion.

"I'm Jo Lupo. And hey, what happened to me 'attacking' you? Now I 'accidentally crashed into' you?"

"No, you still attacked me. I just figured you'd tell your kids differently, so as not to seem like the bad guy. Of course…"

He seemed to get an idea. "…if you want to clear the guilty conscience you'll have once you tell your kids this story then you could always make it up to me."

"Oh?"

"It's six o'clock. How about cooking these peas into a delectable meal for me?"

"That might be a little bit hard for me, considering I have the culinary skills of a bachelor in college."

She indicated to her basket and Zane nodded thoughtfully.

"Then I'll just have to make on for you instead" he said simply.

"You can cook?"

He smiled proudly. "Quite masterfully, if I do say so myself. And I'm going to teach you how!"

Jo bit her lip. "Is that a good idea? I'm the kind of person who burns water and confuses the sugar with salt. Basically, not someone you want around in the kitchen. "

Zane laughed. "Please, like anyone wouldn't want to have you around. I'll take my chances."

Jo blushed as they walked towards the check-out line, and then she suddenly considered the possibility that Zane was a serial killer or rapist. But as they stood waiting for their turn and she watched in delight as he juggled three packs of Mentos and then reenacted Star Wars with raw vegetables, she ruled those options out. Besides, she was trained in martial arts, and no one _ever_ got the drop on Jo Lupo. He wasn't a threat. He was adorable. And also a great chef, apparently.

He offered her his arm as they strolled out to the parking lot, and Jo smiled.

Zane was right. This would be a good story to tell their kids.

Wait.

What.


	5. Taking Off

_Oh my god, what does everyone think about Season 5? The whole time I was watching the first episode I was just like "What? No! What? No! WHAT?"_

_At least it kind of inspired me to get this up. And I have some ideas for a couple more chapters now, so those should be coming sometime in the near-ish future._

_(There's also a small shout-out to John Green in here if you're a Nerdfighter!)_

* * *

><p>Zane hated plane flights. He hated getting to the airport two hours before his departure time. He hated waiting in the never-ending security line. He hated the smell and the hideous gray speckled walls. He hated the overly salty peanuts and the ridiculously-priced food. He hated how his ears popped and his stomach dropped when they took off and landed. And the crying babies. Oh lord, the crying babies. He felt their pain, but they really didn't help alleviate his misery.<p>

Yet here he was, on said demon machine. At least he had the aisle seat. Then if the seat next to him was filled by some smelly unhygienic guy like it usually was (just his luck), he could turn away and breathe in fresh air. Well, as fresh as the stale airplane air could be.

God, he hated planes.

But just as his stewing was about to reach a new level, something happened. Something amazing.

A gorgeous woman was standing next to his seat, and Zane watched as her eyes flitted from her ticked up to the row number above his head. Her shiny black hair was pulled into a side braid, leaving her warm, pretty face uncovered.

"Well, I think this is me" she said indicating to the window seat.

"Here, let me get out of your way." Zane practically jumped up to let her get through more easily. As he slid past her to get into the aisle, her floral perfume filled his nostrils and Zane smiled. He must have done something wonderful to please the airplane gods and be graced with this hygienic, beautiful woman. His stomach felt better already.

"Thanks" she said with a smile as he sat down again next to her. Wow, that smile was magical. It was definitely doing funny things to his heart rate.

He returned the smile happily. "No problem. I'm Zane, by the way."

She shook his outstretched hand and gave it a firm shake. Finally, a girl with confidence! He hated those wimpy, fragile hand shakes – if they could even be called that.

"Jo. It's nice to know I'm sitting next to a gentleman."

"I thought it was just common etiquette."

Jo grimaced. "You'd be surprised how many people make you climb over them. I've come across more than I'd like to admit."

"That sucks. Do you travel often?"

She shrugged. "I guess. When I have time off work I usually go to see my family if I have nothing better to do at home."

"Well then, I'm glad to know I'm sitting next to a veteran" he said with another smile.

She laughed, and that glorious sound forced him to gather up the courage to be honest with her. He leaned in and practically whispered:

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure." She too leaned in while responding, like the two of them were conspiring or something. It was awesome.

"I hate planes. I wouldn't say I'm _scared_ of them… I just… what I'm trying to say is that I'm not exactly comfortable being in charge of the emergency exit" he said somewhat nervously while glancing at the door to her left with the big, red, slightly ominous letters on it. Way to be cool, Zane.

But she just nodded in understanding and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry. If one of our engines catches fire or we run out of gas and have to land in the ocean, I've got it under control."

Damn, that take charge attitude was strangely hot.

She picked up the safety booklet and flipped through it. "And if the plane explodes or something, we won't have to worry about any responsibilities!"

Her head shot up right after the last word came out of her mouth, and she looked apologetically over at Zane. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. That turned out way more twisted and morbid than I thought it would."

But he just chuckled and looked into her eyes. "It's fine. And besides, if something catastrophic does happen, at least I got to spend my last few moments with a charming, beautiful woman."

She blushed and bit her lip before returning the booklet to her seat pocket. He tried to distract himself from how adorable she was by turning to his own seat pocket, and pulled out a magazine. Ah yes, good ol' SkyMall. The catalogue that defines weird. Seriously? What would anyone do with a 28-inch statue of Bigfoot or a garden zombie or a bionic golf glove? What would anyone do wi- wait.

"No way" he breathed.

Jo looked up from her book at him.

"What?"

"They have a mini R2-D2 that responds to voice commands!"

Zane suddenly realized that Jo probably didn't give a flying fuck about Star Wars products in the SkyMall magazine, but her eyes lit up and she looked over his shoulder. She tapped the page excitedly after quickly reading the description.

"Ooh, look! It even dances to the cantina music!"

Zane gaped at her. "You like Star Wars? Could you _be_ any more perfect?"

She grinned as she looked up at him, and Zane noticed how much closer she'd gotten since she started to read over his shoulder. Her right arm was resting lightly on his left arm, and her face was… right there. He couldn't stop his eyes from flicking down to her pink lips, and to his surprise, she couldn't restrain herself from looking down at his either.

It was then that the flight attendants came out to do the safety announcement. Perfect timing guys, really.

As the two of them snapped out of their daze, Zane realized that their departure was coming up. That meant taking off. Off the ground. Off the ground and shooting up into the sky at 500mph. Oh god.

He should have taken a train. Or a bus. Or rented a car. Or even walked, walking was good too. Anything was better than planes. His stomach was already anticipating the churning yet to come and he had to remember to actively breathe. In and out, Zane. In… out… in… out… in…

Suddenly he felt something touch his hand. He looked down and saw Jo lacing her fingers with his, and he immediately felt his entire body relax and his breathing regulate. He smiled at her appreciatively and she winked and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Maybe planes weren't as scary as he thought they were.

Maybe SkyMall wasn't as lame as he thought it was.

And then, stuffed in there with all the "maybes", was a "definitely".

Because this was definitely going to be the best plane flight he'd ever had.

* * *

><p><em>I know Zane is like, the total opposite of a wimp, but everyone has fears right?<em>

_And if you don't know what SkyMall magazine is… that part probably didn't make much sense to you XD Just know they have some weird shit in there._


End file.
